1) First of all, when the ROH show I attended last Saturday is on pay per view next September, you MUST MUST MUST buy this show. 110 bucks, two hours, and an absolutely amazing, fun, entertaining show.
2) Monday at work will be insane. My partner is out most of next week, so I have a lot of work to make up.
3) Mets sweep Philly on the road in a doubleheader. Billy Wagner records both saves. Ain't
payback a stitch?
4) It's summer time! So why can't the temperature reach 85 degrees?!
5) Sad news from the world of competitive eating. Takeru Kobayashi, the king of the Nathan's hot dog eating competition, wrote on his blog last week he seriously injured his jaw during training. He stated that he can only open his jaw about the width of a fingertip and his participation in the July 4th Nathan's contest is seriously in doubt. Hmm, considering Joey Chestnut's 59.5 dogs and buns in 12 minutes broke Kobayashi's record of 53 a few weeks ago, could he be playing possum?
6) Do I feel differently from the last blog I wrote about Chris Benoit now that more details have been released? I'm feeling a lot of emotions. I'm feeling denial, bewilderment, disbelief, shock, anger, disappointment. I guess a part of me wants to believe this isn't true.
7) I'll be at Naperville Ribfest on Sunday and Wednesday. Los Lonely Boys, randy Travis, Marshall Tucker Band for entertainment, Texas Outlaws, Howling Coyote, and roasted corn on the menu. I am pumped up!
8) I love the Knicks' draft day trade for Zach Randolph. A tough power forward who rebounds is exactly what we need playing beside Eddy Curry. Throw in Jamal Crawford, David Lee, Stephon Marbury, Nate Robinson, Renaldo Balkman, Randolph Morris, Quentin Richardson, Mardy Collins, our two more draft picks, and there's something exciting to watch. And considering we only gave up Channing Frye and Steve Francis, this is a steal. The Knicks are still a long way from being where they should be, and that's contending for a title, but I feel they helped themselves tremendously with this trade.
9) Gotta renew my driver's license tomorrow. And this comes one day after getting a parking ticket in downtown Wheaton.
10) I'm amazed how much good and confusion is in my life at the same time.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Moving forward
I've written tributes to people who have passed away for my last two posts that I felt I had to put something new on here.
A lot has been going on. First of all, I was at the Cubs-Brewers game in Wrigley today. The game was incredible, with Milwaukee leading 5-0 after 1 inning and the Cubs rallying back with 3 runs in the ninth to win it 6-5. I brought the tickets off my boss, and since he's a diehard Cubs fan, he's probably kicking himself right now for letting me go!
A few notes on the experience. First, there is nothing like the subway ride to Wrigley. After a few minutes, you can even tell what deodorant people around you use, if they use any at all. There is literally no room to move in that subway car. Here's what I want to do. About two stops before Wrigley (we had about a 35 minutes subway ride), I want to say out loud "I'm getting off!" Everyone clears out of the train to let me pass and then I just shrug and say "Kidding!"
I would love to be able to sit in one of those rooftop seats across the street from Wrigley Field. That and the seats on top of the Green Monster at Fenway have to be the two biggest seats in baseball stadiums. But here's another connection between Wrigley Field and Fenway Park. In Fenway, they have one seat in the right field stands painted red where Ted Williams once hit a home run 502 feet, the longest home run hit in the Park. I think Wrigley should paint the seat where Steve Bartman sat for the NLCS Game 6 in 2003. I'd pay 50 extra bucks for that seat!
Now a few words on Cubs fans. I realize this addresses some people reading this, so be it. I respect that most Cubs fans are passionate. I respect they've endured some tough moments. And I respect that they don't do the wave in their ballpark. Now here are my gripes. I am amazed how condescending and arrogant and they are. If you're not a Cub, you're scum in their eyes and have no business being in the same zip code. They NEVER credit players from the other team, they just hate their own. And if you root for another team and step into the so-called Friendly Confines, you're treated like the Pope in a brothel. After the game was over, a few fans even screamed at me, "Get the Brewers out of here and get the f'n Mets out of here too." This was with no provocation.
And to hear clowns like Ron Santo complain about how other team's fans only cheer when the scoreboard tells them too. Well, for eight innings, 85 percent of the crowd wasn't even paying attention to the game. Wrigley Field is becoming a cool place to hang out, it's becoming less about the baseball. And the curse. The fans want to blame a goat, a fan, the devil, and who knows what else, maybe they should learn the game of baseball and then they can point their fingers in the right direction.
A lot has been going on. First of all, I was at the Cubs-Brewers game in Wrigley today. The game was incredible, with Milwaukee leading 5-0 after 1 inning and the Cubs rallying back with 3 runs in the ninth to win it 6-5. I brought the tickets off my boss, and since he's a diehard Cubs fan, he's probably kicking himself right now for letting me go!
A few notes on the experience. First, there is nothing like the subway ride to Wrigley. After a few minutes, you can even tell what deodorant people around you use, if they use any at all. There is literally no room to move in that subway car. Here's what I want to do. About two stops before Wrigley (we had about a 35 minutes subway ride), I want to say out loud "I'm getting off!" Everyone clears out of the train to let me pass and then I just shrug and say "Kidding!"
I would love to be able to sit in one of those rooftop seats across the street from Wrigley Field. That and the seats on top of the Green Monster at Fenway have to be the two biggest seats in baseball stadiums. But here's another connection between Wrigley Field and Fenway Park. In Fenway, they have one seat in the right field stands painted red where Ted Williams once hit a home run 502 feet, the longest home run hit in the Park. I think Wrigley should paint the seat where Steve Bartman sat for the NLCS Game 6 in 2003. I'd pay 50 extra bucks for that seat!
Now a few words on Cubs fans. I realize this addresses some people reading this, so be it. I respect that most Cubs fans are passionate. I respect they've endured some tough moments. And I respect that they don't do the wave in their ballpark. Now here are my gripes. I am amazed how condescending and arrogant and they are. If you're not a Cub, you're scum in their eyes and have no business being in the same zip code. They NEVER credit players from the other team, they just hate their own. And if you root for another team and step into the so-called Friendly Confines, you're treated like the Pope in a brothel. After the game was over, a few fans even screamed at me, "Get the Brewers out of here and get the f'n Mets out of here too." This was with no provocation.
And to hear clowns like Ron Santo complain about how other team's fans only cheer when the scoreboard tells them too. Well, for eight innings, 85 percent of the crowd wasn't even paying attention to the game. Wrigley Field is becoming a cool place to hang out, it's becoming less about the baseball. And the curse. The fans want to blame a goat, a fan, the devil, and who knows what else, maybe they should learn the game of baseball and then they can point their fingers in the right direction.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Thank you Chris Benoit
I figured I would come here tonight and type about how great Ring of Honor was on Saturday or the great meal I had at Wildfire or how I will never eat another lingonberry. Maybe later.
I worked until 7 pm tonight. Around 6:45, I was running out of things to do. So I decided to jump on the ROH message board to see if anything was going on. And the pages were loading so slowly, which is really strange. The only time that board ever runs slowly is after an ROH event takes place. After about 3 or 4 minutes, the page came up. And there I saw the words that are still chilling me. "Chris Benoit is dead." Then I found out, not only was he dead, so were his wife Nancy and their 7-year-old son Daniel.
I hvae posted an article to give you more details on this life and career. Here's my take. Benoit, 40, is in my mind, the greatest technical professional wrestler of this generation. I could tell from watching him for 15 years in and our of the ring that he was an absolute gentleman, a family man, passionate about the business, simply everything that is right about pro wrestling. And he's gone with no warning. In an era where the term pro wrestling has been replaced with sports entertainment, Benoit was one of the last links to pro wrestling. He wasn't about entertaining with his words or being flashy, he wasn't the greatest interview ever. He was just simply a hard working, no-nonsense, kick-ass wrestler and he did it that way for 22 years.
He was supposed to wrestle in Houston Sunday night at a pay-per-view. I found out this morning he didn't make it because he had to fly home to Atlanta for personal reasons. And then to find this out...even though I'm not one who reserves emotions very much, it takes a lot to make me cry. Well, I have shed a few tears for this. Nancy was also in wrestling, having been a manager for many years under the name Woman.
I have the Hard Knocks DVD and I will certainly watch it in the next few days. He never should have gone so soon and certainly not this way. Here is my final thought.
Chris, you were one of the guys that made me proud to be a fan of wrestling, when so many ridicule me for watching it. You were easy to root for, easy to admire, and easy to respect. Thanks for the memories. You will always be missed. You and Eddie will be main eventing in heaven's wrestling ring tonight.
I worked until 7 pm tonight. Around 6:45, I was running out of things to do. So I decided to jump on the ROH message board to see if anything was going on. And the pages were loading so slowly, which is really strange. The only time that board ever runs slowly is after an ROH event takes place. After about 3 or 4 minutes, the page came up. And there I saw the words that are still chilling me. "Chris Benoit is dead." Then I found out, not only was he dead, so were his wife Nancy and their 7-year-old son Daniel.
I hvae posted an article to give you more details on this life and career. Here's my take. Benoit, 40, is in my mind, the greatest technical professional wrestler of this generation. I could tell from watching him for 15 years in and our of the ring that he was an absolute gentleman, a family man, passionate about the business, simply everything that is right about pro wrestling. And he's gone with no warning. In an era where the term pro wrestling has been replaced with sports entertainment, Benoit was one of the last links to pro wrestling. He wasn't about entertaining with his words or being flashy, he wasn't the greatest interview ever. He was just simply a hard working, no-nonsense, kick-ass wrestler and he did it that way for 22 years.
He was supposed to wrestle in Houston Sunday night at a pay-per-view. I found out this morning he didn't make it because he had to fly home to Atlanta for personal reasons. And then to find this out...even though I'm not one who reserves emotions very much, it takes a lot to make me cry. Well, I have shed a few tears for this. Nancy was also in wrestling, having been a manager for many years under the name Woman.
I have the Hard Knocks DVD and I will certainly watch it in the next few days. He never should have gone so soon and certainly not this way. Here is my final thought.
Chris, you were one of the guys that made me proud to be a fan of wrestling, when so many ridicule me for watching it. You were easy to root for, easy to admire, and easy to respect. Thanks for the memories. You will always be missed. You and Eddie will be main eventing in heaven's wrestling ring tonight.
Friday, June 15, 2007
For Madeline Bartolo
My dad's mother passed away last night after a five-year battle with Alzheimer's. I still don't know what the official cause was but I knew things hadn't been great lately. She'd had a fever and went in to the hospital about two weeks ago. After a few days the doctors were able to regulate her temperature. Last Sunday, she was in rough shape and on Monday she was doing well. Then Tuesday, things weren't going so well and that's the last thing I'd heard until my mother woke me up at 6 am this morning to break the news.
Most of my memories of her are a little faded, because most of my time with her was spent when I was a kid. She always lived in Brooklyn. When I moved to Illinois in 1997, I didn't get to see her and my grandfather as much as I used to. What was 6 or 7 visits a year became 2 or 3. But I can remember little things. I remember her insisting I wash my face before she took me out for the day. She said she wanted my face so bright she would have to get her sunglasses to look at me. Come to think of it, she never took the glasses out. And that was in the one bathroom in the house. Its walls and ceiling were painted flamingo pink! I remember her semolina toast in the mornings. I remember her slipping me dollar bills when dad wasn't looking. I remember her playing cards with me and my grandfather. I remember watching Victor Borge videos and laughing hysterically at his performance. I remember those Italian Thanksgivings and Christmases in that tiny house. How we got a dozen people in such a cramped place, I'll never know. I've stayed in hotel rooms that were larger than that house she lived in for what must have been 50 years.
But mostly I remember her warm spirit. She was simply one of the most compassionate, selfless people ever. Many times, I'd be riding in the car with her and my grandfather and I'd convince them to put the country music station on (this was so long ago that New York actually had a country music station). I would sing every word to every song and she would try to sing along with me, though her tastes were Frank Sinatra and Barry Manilow. I would have to say she was a little out of the box. She never worked as far as I know, she was a stay-at home wife and mom. She never learned to drive a car. She was tiny, maybe 5-5 and 110 pounds. But she could gamble. She frequently won large sums in Atlantic City and Wildwood, NJ.
Then around 2000, she had two strokes. About 2003, as my college years were winding down, I heard she had the condition. I knew how devastating it is and that it is incurable. I knew things would never be the same.
I saw her three times over her four years in that nursing home. I remember the first time, my dad wheeled her in. From my seat in the lounge, I really thought he was wheeling someone else into the room. She looked so different. The round brown hair was now silver and black and neatly combed over. The left side of her mouth wouldn't move. She could barely speak and I don't think she even recognized me. If you've never dealt with Alzheimer's, that experience will shake reality right down to your boots. The second time she moved a little better. It was a balmy summer afternoon. Dad, Uncle Brian, my cousin, and I took her outside and we sat down by Sheepshead Bay. The last time was about a year ago, about six months after my grandfather had passed away. I don't recall too much, except the visit was pretty quick.
I do remember one thing she said to me at a restaurant in New Jersey around 2001. I was feeling uncertain, a little lost about where I was headed. I explained what I was feeling to her, I just didn't want to go to mom and dad for a change. And I could tell she was slowing down just a little bit. But her heart and wisdom were right there. And she said this to me twice. "Adam, you have to be your own best friend."
Thanks, Nanny, I'm trying. Tell Papa I said hello and I miss him.
Most of my memories of her are a little faded, because most of my time with her was spent when I was a kid. She always lived in Brooklyn. When I moved to Illinois in 1997, I didn't get to see her and my grandfather as much as I used to. What was 6 or 7 visits a year became 2 or 3. But I can remember little things. I remember her insisting I wash my face before she took me out for the day. She said she wanted my face so bright she would have to get her sunglasses to look at me. Come to think of it, she never took the glasses out. And that was in the one bathroom in the house. Its walls and ceiling were painted flamingo pink! I remember her semolina toast in the mornings. I remember her slipping me dollar bills when dad wasn't looking. I remember her playing cards with me and my grandfather. I remember watching Victor Borge videos and laughing hysterically at his performance. I remember those Italian Thanksgivings and Christmases in that tiny house. How we got a dozen people in such a cramped place, I'll never know. I've stayed in hotel rooms that were larger than that house she lived in for what must have been 50 years.
But mostly I remember her warm spirit. She was simply one of the most compassionate, selfless people ever. Many times, I'd be riding in the car with her and my grandfather and I'd convince them to put the country music station on (this was so long ago that New York actually had a country music station). I would sing every word to every song and she would try to sing along with me, though her tastes were Frank Sinatra and Barry Manilow. I would have to say she was a little out of the box. She never worked as far as I know, she was a stay-at home wife and mom. She never learned to drive a car. She was tiny, maybe 5-5 and 110 pounds. But she could gamble. She frequently won large sums in Atlantic City and Wildwood, NJ.
Then around 2000, she had two strokes. About 2003, as my college years were winding down, I heard she had the condition. I knew how devastating it is and that it is incurable. I knew things would never be the same.
I saw her three times over her four years in that nursing home. I remember the first time, my dad wheeled her in. From my seat in the lounge, I really thought he was wheeling someone else into the room. She looked so different. The round brown hair was now silver and black and neatly combed over. The left side of her mouth wouldn't move. She could barely speak and I don't think she even recognized me. If you've never dealt with Alzheimer's, that experience will shake reality right down to your boots. The second time she moved a little better. It was a balmy summer afternoon. Dad, Uncle Brian, my cousin, and I took her outside and we sat down by Sheepshead Bay. The last time was about a year ago, about six months after my grandfather had passed away. I don't recall too much, except the visit was pretty quick.
I do remember one thing she said to me at a restaurant in New Jersey around 2001. I was feeling uncertain, a little lost about where I was headed. I explained what I was feeling to her, I just didn't want to go to mom and dad for a change. And I could tell she was slowing down just a little bit. But her heart and wisdom were right there. And she said this to me twice. "Adam, you have to be your own best friend."
Thanks, Nanny, I'm trying. Tell Papa I said hello and I miss him.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
One young man's prayer
More and more every day
I see the struggles of my ways
What I long for, what I yearn for
Is to see your peace working in me.
I have been busy, I have been hurried.
I have been taken, I have been burdened.
What I would give to live these moments in freedom.
Not free of the responsibility, but free from the pressure.
That gently turns me away from what I want.
This life sometimes feels like I'm surviving instead of living.
I can't expect to know my future.
But shouldn't I feel like life is more
Than just making it to the next day?
Then I consider more than me.
I sense the world.
I sense the blindness, I sense the doubts.
I sense the fear, I sense our apathy.
I sense the anger, I sense the confusion.
Then I see our search for meaning, for significance.
I see how the people in this world need you.
How can we be chosen by you?
To be accepted, to be honored?
To be forgiven, to be set free?
To be loved?
Yet I still struggle to give you even ten minutes a day.
I mean more than passing thought, more than my cries for help
But to truly know what your mercy and love can do
And have already done.
Help me to see me as you see me.
I know life on earth was never meant to be easy.
Yours wasn't.
But I want mine more clear.
Where do I fit?
How can I matter?
Right now, do I matter?
I know I want to know you more.
Never forsake me.
I see the struggles of my ways
What I long for, what I yearn for
Is to see your peace working in me.
I have been busy, I have been hurried.
I have been taken, I have been burdened.
What I would give to live these moments in freedom.
Not free of the responsibility, but free from the pressure.
That gently turns me away from what I want.
This life sometimes feels like I'm surviving instead of living.
I can't expect to know my future.
But shouldn't I feel like life is more
Than just making it to the next day?
Then I consider more than me.
I sense the world.
I sense the blindness, I sense the doubts.
I sense the fear, I sense our apathy.
I sense the anger, I sense the confusion.
Then I see our search for meaning, for significance.
I see how the people in this world need you.
How can we be chosen by you?
To be accepted, to be honored?
To be forgiven, to be set free?
To be loved?
Yet I still struggle to give you even ten minutes a day.
I mean more than passing thought, more than my cries for help
But to truly know what your mercy and love can do
And have already done.
Help me to see me as you see me.
I know life on earth was never meant to be easy.
Yours wasn't.
But I want mine more clear.
Where do I fit?
How can I matter?
Right now, do I matter?
I know I want to know you more.
Never forsake me.
Saturday, June 09, 2007
Arizona recap Part 2
Day 3
Thursday was Spa Day at the Camelback Marriott in Scottsdale up in the mountains. After working out for about 45 minutes, I checked in for my Swedish massage. I've never had anything like this done before. It lasted an hour, and it was an experience like none other. Dark room, southwestern music playing, it was so relaxing. The foot massage was probably the highlight.
Then came the pedicure. My toes are pretty sensitive, so I really didn't know how I would handle it. For the most part, it was cool and I won't bore you any further. Then I figured I may as well take advantage of what they had, so after an hour of tanning by the pool, I hit the steam room, the sauna, the shower, and that was that. Now it's onto downtown Phoenix for some baseball.
We went to the Diamondbacks-Giants game on Thursday and the D-Backs-Red Sox game on Friday. A few things about Chase Field. On the plus side, they have Cold Stone ice cream, the facility is maintained well considering the heat, watching the retractable roof open is cool, and the parking availability is great. Onto the negatives. Those would be changing the team colors from teal and purple to a generic red that half of baseball already has, you can barely hear the PA announcer, and the presentation is more like Triple-A baseball. Let me elaborate on that last one. I like entertainment. But this was what you would see in a minor league stadium. I don't need to see fans shagging fly balls in between innings to win frequent flyer miles. I don't need to see in-game hosts between every inning telling us the new black wool D-backs cap is six bucks off in the team souvenir shop. The presentation wasn't enough about baseball for me.
The big problem with Chase Field? The fans are dead quiet. A game there is like a morgue. For the Giants game, with Barry Bonds playing his only game of the series, there were 21,000 for the paid attendance, 44 percent capacity. The only time there was much noise was when they booed Bonds. For the Red Sox game, you would figure things would get better. Great team coming to town, the attendance will go up. And it did. 40,000 people, but I bet 20,000 of those fans were Red Sox fans. The D-Backs have a lot of good young players and one of the best records in the National League. But that franchise has to learn to market better.
I will give the D-Backs credit for one more thing. They have garlic fries, famous from San Francisco. Their "Taste of the Majors" stand features concessions from stadiums throughout baseball. These fries are basically potatoes, parsley, salt, pepper, a little butter, and a TON of fresh garlic. And they are the ultimate depression food. And I needed that. The Mets had lost 5 of 6 games and just got swept at home by Philadelphia. Suffice to say those garlic fries hit the spot. Of course, nobody dared come near me for the next four days...
Day 4
Friday started with a veggie omelette at the Good Egg for breakfast. Then we drove 40 minutes southeast to Mesa. We went to the end of Highway 202 and then the highway ended and turned into Tonto National Park, filled with just mountains, sand, and desert plants. Not a soul around. It was barren, yet beautiful. Suddenly, we arrived at the Salt River. Then, we got our inflatable tubes and floated for 2.5 hours down the Salt River surrounded by the Tonto desert. Now my father is not exactly an adventurous man. He's certainly not an outdoors guy, except for golf. He was very apprehensive going into this and mom and I begged him to do it. After 20-30 minutes of figuring out how to maneuver the tube, we could tell he started to enjoy it. How? He stopped complaining! We all really enjoyed it and he later said it was 100 times better than he thought it would ever be.
Two problems with the tubing. With the position of my body facing up in the tube, for hours in the Arizona desert heat, I got the strangest shaped sunburn. The middle of my stomach is fine, but my ankles, shoulders, and both sides of my stomach are cherry red. It's not pretty, but at least the pain has gone down. Second, my mom had my black sleeveless t-shirt in a plastic bag and at some point, it snuck out of the bag and drifted down the river, so I lost my shirt. But better to lose a t-shirt than a wallet or a cell phone.
Then we stopped in downtown Scottsdale and I purchased a belt and a few Native American necklaces, which I enjoy wearing. After going home to clean up, we had a top-notch Chinese meal at PF Chang's (lettuce wraps, ahi tuna, pork dumplings, spicy chicken, crispy honey shrimp, stir-fried spinach with garlic, pork fried rice, and for dessert, banana spring rolls). Then, it was one more baseball game with just Dad and I, went back to the Sheraton, and woke up at 4:00 am for the airport.
Being in the Southwest after coming in from the midwest is like coming to a completely different country. The colors, the heat, the mentality. I'm not saying it's better or worse, but it's different. And sometimes, we need that. I know I need a break from the familiar every once in a while. This was a good place to do it. More than that, my parents got along pretty well, thankfully. It's just as the years go by, I realize more and more how different they are with their personalities. I didn't make it to In and Out Burger like I hoped, but did pretty darn well with food.
Last, but not least, I got some time to reflect and get some quiet time, which I needed. I could have done more than I did, but I spent some time pondering my place in the world, and how I've been doing this past year. I'm not getting into specifics here, but I came away with a few clear thoughts and feelings about certain issues. I think that's enough said about that.
Thursday was Spa Day at the Camelback Marriott in Scottsdale up in the mountains. After working out for about 45 minutes, I checked in for my Swedish massage. I've never had anything like this done before. It lasted an hour, and it was an experience like none other. Dark room, southwestern music playing, it was so relaxing. The foot massage was probably the highlight.
Then came the pedicure. My toes are pretty sensitive, so I really didn't know how I would handle it. For the most part, it was cool and I won't bore you any further. Then I figured I may as well take advantage of what they had, so after an hour of tanning by the pool, I hit the steam room, the sauna, the shower, and that was that. Now it's onto downtown Phoenix for some baseball.
We went to the Diamondbacks-Giants game on Thursday and the D-Backs-Red Sox game on Friday. A few things about Chase Field. On the plus side, they have Cold Stone ice cream, the facility is maintained well considering the heat, watching the retractable roof open is cool, and the parking availability is great. Onto the negatives. Those would be changing the team colors from teal and purple to a generic red that half of baseball already has, you can barely hear the PA announcer, and the presentation is more like Triple-A baseball. Let me elaborate on that last one. I like entertainment. But this was what you would see in a minor league stadium. I don't need to see fans shagging fly balls in between innings to win frequent flyer miles. I don't need to see in-game hosts between every inning telling us the new black wool D-backs cap is six bucks off in the team souvenir shop. The presentation wasn't enough about baseball for me.
The big problem with Chase Field? The fans are dead quiet. A game there is like a morgue. For the Giants game, with Barry Bonds playing his only game of the series, there were 21,000 for the paid attendance, 44 percent capacity. The only time there was much noise was when they booed Bonds. For the Red Sox game, you would figure things would get better. Great team coming to town, the attendance will go up. And it did. 40,000 people, but I bet 20,000 of those fans were Red Sox fans. The D-Backs have a lot of good young players and one of the best records in the National League. But that franchise has to learn to market better.
I will give the D-Backs credit for one more thing. They have garlic fries, famous from San Francisco. Their "Taste of the Majors" stand features concessions from stadiums throughout baseball. These fries are basically potatoes, parsley, salt, pepper, a little butter, and a TON of fresh garlic. And they are the ultimate depression food. And I needed that. The Mets had lost 5 of 6 games and just got swept at home by Philadelphia. Suffice to say those garlic fries hit the spot. Of course, nobody dared come near me for the next four days...
Day 4
Friday started with a veggie omelette at the Good Egg for breakfast. Then we drove 40 minutes southeast to Mesa. We went to the end of Highway 202 and then the highway ended and turned into Tonto National Park, filled with just mountains, sand, and desert plants. Not a soul around. It was barren, yet beautiful. Suddenly, we arrived at the Salt River. Then, we got our inflatable tubes and floated for 2.5 hours down the Salt River surrounded by the Tonto desert. Now my father is not exactly an adventurous man. He's certainly not an outdoors guy, except for golf. He was very apprehensive going into this and mom and I begged him to do it. After 20-30 minutes of figuring out how to maneuver the tube, we could tell he started to enjoy it. How? He stopped complaining! We all really enjoyed it and he later said it was 100 times better than he thought it would ever be.
Two problems with the tubing. With the position of my body facing up in the tube, for hours in the Arizona desert heat, I got the strangest shaped sunburn. The middle of my stomach is fine, but my ankles, shoulders, and both sides of my stomach are cherry red. It's not pretty, but at least the pain has gone down. Second, my mom had my black sleeveless t-shirt in a plastic bag and at some point, it snuck out of the bag and drifted down the river, so I lost my shirt. But better to lose a t-shirt than a wallet or a cell phone.
Then we stopped in downtown Scottsdale and I purchased a belt and a few Native American necklaces, which I enjoy wearing. After going home to clean up, we had a top-notch Chinese meal at PF Chang's (lettuce wraps, ahi tuna, pork dumplings, spicy chicken, crispy honey shrimp, stir-fried spinach with garlic, pork fried rice, and for dessert, banana spring rolls). Then, it was one more baseball game with just Dad and I, went back to the Sheraton, and woke up at 4:00 am for the airport.
Being in the Southwest after coming in from the midwest is like coming to a completely different country. The colors, the heat, the mentality. I'm not saying it's better or worse, but it's different. And sometimes, we need that. I know I need a break from the familiar every once in a while. This was a good place to do it. More than that, my parents got along pretty well, thankfully. It's just as the years go by, I realize more and more how different they are with their personalities. I didn't make it to In and Out Burger like I hoped, but did pretty darn well with food.
Last, but not least, I got some time to reflect and get some quiet time, which I needed. I could have done more than I did, but I spent some time pondering my place in the world, and how I've been doing this past year. I'm not getting into specifics here, but I came away with a few clear thoughts and feelings about certain issues. I think that's enough said about that.
Arizona recap Part 1
I'm back from Phoenix. I'll just touch on a couple points from my journal that I kept.
Day 1
As the plane was approaching the southwest from Chicago, the first thing that popped into mind was "So this is what a mountain looks like?" Hadn't seen one in person in a few years.
The only thing worse than sitting right in front of a screaming baby on a plane? Sitting in front of two businessmen who don't shut up for four hours, compare stories, and don't quit swearing. For four hours, I had to hear "I put a $5,000 investment in this project, I passed it onto my son, and he's doing great with it. In fact he just brought a house.." Shut up!
Sudoku puzzles are downright addictive. I spent 90 minutes on one puzzle alone. And I'm still kicking myself for not solving it!
Bobby Q's has the best BBQ in the world. A real smoked flavor, rib meat falls off the bones. My favorite had to be the BBQ sliced pork. the baby backs, brisket, and the grilled vegetables were all excellent. And I don't like bananas much, but the sub-zero banana cream pie with the whipped cream and almonds is to die for.
Day 2
It is so refreshing to be away from the hurry, pressure, and expectations that I've gotten so accustomed to.
Three holes in one in mini golf. Not bad.
This is the same hotel I stayed at 5 years ago. It's for people who own timeshares, so it won't have a lot of people my age. It's mostly families and seniors. There aren't a whole lot of activities here either, but that makes some sense, considering there's a lot to do in the area. The waterfall at the pool is a great sight and running under it feels awesome. Actually I did play water basketball with a few kids for about an hour. They were probably about 10, 8, and 6 years old, respectively. The ball was tiny, and I had absolutely no touch shooting long range. So I decided to let them do all the shooting. I just grabbed the rebounds and passed the ball back to them. Hanging with those boys was fun. After you walk away from doing something like that, you definitely feel you spent time that was worthwhile.
Dinner at the Salt Cellar was excellent. This is an underground (literally) seafood restaurant in south Scottsdale. I had Yakimono Hawaiian ahi tuna with rice pilaf and veggies. They served it with soy sauce, fresh ginger, and the hottest wasabi known to man. I took one little taste of that green wasabi... four days later, my eyebrows have just about grown back. But this place has a lot of flair and charm. It's dark, very rustic, and intimate. If you like good seafood, I'd definitely recommend it.
Day 1
As the plane was approaching the southwest from Chicago, the first thing that popped into mind was "So this is what a mountain looks like?" Hadn't seen one in person in a few years.
The only thing worse than sitting right in front of a screaming baby on a plane? Sitting in front of two businessmen who don't shut up for four hours, compare stories, and don't quit swearing. For four hours, I had to hear "I put a $5,000 investment in this project, I passed it onto my son, and he's doing great with it. In fact he just brought a house.." Shut up!
Sudoku puzzles are downright addictive. I spent 90 minutes on one puzzle alone. And I'm still kicking myself for not solving it!
Bobby Q's has the best BBQ in the world. A real smoked flavor, rib meat falls off the bones. My favorite had to be the BBQ sliced pork. the baby backs, brisket, and the grilled vegetables were all excellent. And I don't like bananas much, but the sub-zero banana cream pie with the whipped cream and almonds is to die for.
Day 2
It is so refreshing to be away from the hurry, pressure, and expectations that I've gotten so accustomed to.
Three holes in one in mini golf. Not bad.
This is the same hotel I stayed at 5 years ago. It's for people who own timeshares, so it won't have a lot of people my age. It's mostly families and seniors. There aren't a whole lot of activities here either, but that makes some sense, considering there's a lot to do in the area. The waterfall at the pool is a great sight and running under it feels awesome. Actually I did play water basketball with a few kids for about an hour. They were probably about 10, 8, and 6 years old, respectively. The ball was tiny, and I had absolutely no touch shooting long range. So I decided to let them do all the shooting. I just grabbed the rebounds and passed the ball back to them. Hanging with those boys was fun. After you walk away from doing something like that, you definitely feel you spent time that was worthwhile.Dinner at the Salt Cellar was excellent. This is an underground (literally) seafood restaurant in south Scottsdale. I had Yakimono Hawaiian ahi tuna with rice pilaf and veggies. They served it with soy sauce, fresh ginger, and the hottest wasabi known to man. I took one little taste of that green wasabi... four days later, my eyebrows have just about grown back. But this place has a lot of flair and charm. It's dark, very rustic, and intimate. If you like good seafood, I'd definitely recommend it.
Monday, June 04, 2007
Just a post before I go...
To Whom it may concern.
Traveling twice the speed of sound.
It's easy to get burned.
For the record, Crosby, Stills, and Nash can't sue me for posting the chorus to their song, reason being I changed one word.
I haven't been on here in a while, but I need to say a few things before I leave for Phoenix tomorrow morning. First of all, I don't have too many set plans for the next four days. I do know a few places I'll be: getting a spa treatment (seriously), couple baseball games, and exploring downtown Phoenix. I also have a little bit of interest in southwestern culture, Native American artifacts, etc, so I'll be sure to get into that in some way. And I've heard so much about In and Out Burger, I'll have to get into that also!
With the files I process at work, there's a lot of pressure from my boss and the powers that be to fill everything out right. So when I get an error, I get upset. It bothers me. I've been doing better lately, but today, everything collapsed. I had three errors. It just ruined the rest of my day. I spent the last 90 minutes of my work day counting down each minute until it was time to go home. Sometimes I wish I was a little more resilient with that stuff.
My grandmother needs some prayer. She's had Alzheimer's for 5 years now and lived in a nursing home for about 4. Sunday morning, she was rushed to the hospital with 104 degree temperature. We don't know why, but she's being examined right now. And Dad's in Arizona, 3,000 miles away from Brooklyn, where she is.
My work day started to get lighter early last week. Since that happened, I've found myself going to sleep earlier and earlier. Can anyone make sense out of this for me?
Softball season has begun. We opened against the navy blue team that had our number all last year and knocked us out of the playoffs. We looked dead for most of the game. We trailed 10-5 and we came up in the bottom of the sixth as the heavy rain had begun to fall. We scored seven runs, need three outs to put the win away. Before we could get just one out, they got two runs and had a runner on second. Their hitter lined a low shot to me in short center field. I could quickly tell the ball was not going to travel far and I ran in. I reached out, caught the ball at full stride, and managed to flip the ball to the second baseman. The ball beat the runner back to the bag for two outs. They scored twice more and it was our turn in the seventh, needing two runs to tie and three to win. After we made two outs, we got two runs to push the game to extras. Neither team scored in the eighth, the time limit expired, and we tied 14-14. I'm not one for moral victories, but considering how we were playing for the first half of the game and the quality of our opponent, it was a great feeling to get a tie. For me, I batted 2-for-4 with a walk, drove a runner in, and scored once. I was really proud of my defense though. I made about 8 or 9 catches, a few of them while diving. Something is just sweet about sliding face first on a soaking wet outfield.
The Mets released Chan Ho Park today. Pardon me if I'm not shedding any tears.
I almost went to the Cubs-Braves game Saturday, though I wound up having to do other things. Although Atlanta won, it still would have been fun to see Lou Piniella blow his top live and in living color.
Music pick: "Cherokee Fiddle" Johnny Lee.
And let me leave you with this. I just realized something. Every girl I've gone out with more than one time is now married. And no, I'm not disclosing the number!
Traveling twice the speed of sound.
It's easy to get burned.
For the record, Crosby, Stills, and Nash can't sue me for posting the chorus to their song, reason being I changed one word.
I haven't been on here in a while, but I need to say a few things before I leave for Phoenix tomorrow morning. First of all, I don't have too many set plans for the next four days. I do know a few places I'll be: getting a spa treatment (seriously), couple baseball games, and exploring downtown Phoenix. I also have a little bit of interest in southwestern culture, Native American artifacts, etc, so I'll be sure to get into that in some way. And I've heard so much about In and Out Burger, I'll have to get into that also!
With the files I process at work, there's a lot of pressure from my boss and the powers that be to fill everything out right. So when I get an error, I get upset. It bothers me. I've been doing better lately, but today, everything collapsed. I had three errors. It just ruined the rest of my day. I spent the last 90 minutes of my work day counting down each minute until it was time to go home. Sometimes I wish I was a little more resilient with that stuff.
My grandmother needs some prayer. She's had Alzheimer's for 5 years now and lived in a nursing home for about 4. Sunday morning, she was rushed to the hospital with 104 degree temperature. We don't know why, but she's being examined right now. And Dad's in Arizona, 3,000 miles away from Brooklyn, where she is.
My work day started to get lighter early last week. Since that happened, I've found myself going to sleep earlier and earlier. Can anyone make sense out of this for me?
Softball season has begun. We opened against the navy blue team that had our number all last year and knocked us out of the playoffs. We looked dead for most of the game. We trailed 10-5 and we came up in the bottom of the sixth as the heavy rain had begun to fall. We scored seven runs, need three outs to put the win away. Before we could get just one out, they got two runs and had a runner on second. Their hitter lined a low shot to me in short center field. I could quickly tell the ball was not going to travel far and I ran in. I reached out, caught the ball at full stride, and managed to flip the ball to the second baseman. The ball beat the runner back to the bag for two outs. They scored twice more and it was our turn in the seventh, needing two runs to tie and three to win. After we made two outs, we got two runs to push the game to extras. Neither team scored in the eighth, the time limit expired, and we tied 14-14. I'm not one for moral victories, but considering how we were playing for the first half of the game and the quality of our opponent, it was a great feeling to get a tie. For me, I batted 2-for-4 with a walk, drove a runner in, and scored once. I was really proud of my defense though. I made about 8 or 9 catches, a few of them while diving. Something is just sweet about sliding face first on a soaking wet outfield.
The Mets released Chan Ho Park today. Pardon me if I'm not shedding any tears.
I almost went to the Cubs-Braves game Saturday, though I wound up having to do other things. Although Atlanta won, it still would have been fun to see Lou Piniella blow his top live and in living color.
Music pick: "Cherokee Fiddle" Johnny Lee.
And let me leave you with this. I just realized something. Every girl I've gone out with more than one time is now married. And no, I'm not disclosing the number!
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